I'm holding on (why is everything so heavy?)
by HiddenByFaeries
Summary: Marco was old. Older than he led everyone on to believing. And he was tired. Post-Marineford, Ace Lives (just not in the usual way), light angst


Eyyyy, what's up peeps? So, here's a one-shot with my personal hc for Marco~

enjoy!

Like always, no beta so all mistakes are mine

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He didn't have a name til Oyaji gave him one. Or, he _had_ had a name once, a name he forgot as the centuries passed by him in a blur and he forgot how to be a _person,_ forgot how to be _human._ Then, one day, Oyaji came upon him in his cell-cave-home. He forgot why he was there, why he was chained there. There was a lot he forgot really.

He had been more feral back then. He'd forgotten so much, only had his instincts to really help him function. But Oyaji, he hadn't given up on him. Had been his anchor as he fought his way back to his humanity.

Marco breathed out slowly, opening his eyes and pulling away from his memories. He stood before a crevice deep in the Red Line. He hadn't been back to his prison, his home for countless centuries, since Oyaji had literally fallen into his life. He huffed out a chuckle. He didn't know who was more surprised, him or Oyaji. But Oyaji had broken his chains and took him away from here and for that, Marco will always be grateful and love him for his kindness and open heart.

Though, Marco hadn't made things easy. Hell, for the longest time, it had just been Whitebeard and him cause Whitebeard had known that Marco just. He wasn't safe to be around, he had been so feral, so wild. Only Whitebeard had been able to handle him. Things got better once he started to relearn how to be a person, relearned everything he had forgotten.

He was procrastinating, he knew himself well enough to know this. He was afraid. Gritting his teeth, Marco took the last step and took a controlled fall into his past. He landed lightly, stirring up dust and dirt. Settling, he brought up an arm and lit it on fire, to get a look around.

Nothing had changed. The shackles and chains that had once held him captive, broken and scattered around, rusted in places. The dais, with its worn deteriorating cushions he had nested in for when he'd fallen into one of his numerous deep sleeps. The bars that held him there, that he couldn't break no matter how hard he had tried. Those were shattered, only jagged pieces remaining.

With grim determination, Marco stepped through the broken gap and turned around. Taking in everything. Finally, he collapsed onto the cushions and placed his head in his hands. Shoulders slumped in defeat. He was tired. So tired. He couldn't go on anymore, losing Oyaji and Ace. At once. He closed in eyes in grief.

Marco had hoped that, Ace at least, could come back. He'd taken him as his mate, they were _tied_ together. Because, here's the thing. The secret that Marco had kept close to his heart and not even Oyaji had known.

There was no Phoenix Zoan Fruit. He faked it pretty well, water in general messed with his flames and body and Seastone weakened him, but not like it did to true Fruit Users. Once upon a time, he had been worshipped as a god, as divine. As a child of the gods. He was a true Phoenix, the _only_ Phoenix in existence.

And he could share his abilities, his immortality with only one person. The one who fit his soul, who was his compliment in all things. Ace had been it. And when they had stopped flirting around, when Marco had taken him to bed and bound them. Heart. Soul. It was supposed to be permanent. Ace shouldn't have died from fucking Akainu's magma. But he had.

He gripped his hair tight then released it as he took his face out of his hands then lent backwards slightly and stared up at the rock ceiling above him. Harshly sighing out loud, Marco once again looked around his home and this time, finally saw that there was something that didn't belong.

He stared in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajared.

Glowing softly behind the dais, resting on a nest of worn cushions that had fallen down at some point after he had left. Sat Ace's Devil Fruit, the Mera Mera no Mi. It seemed to flicker like a real fire to his eyes, before like it had been waiting for him to notice it. It started to glow all shades of a roaring fire. Marco didn't turn away, he couldn't.

The fiery glow seemed to grow and twist until finally it died down. Laying there, naked like the day he was born, laid Ace. Looking the same like before he had left to hunt down Blackbeard, before he had been caught and imprisoned. Before he had _died._ Light breathing filled the silent cave, Ace's chest rising and falling with every breath.

Marco choked on his tears, scrambling and falling to where Ace laid. He skinned his arms and legs, clothes torn a bit. The pain didn't even register, gone before he could properly feel anything. He hovered over Ace before he just, took him in his arms and rest his head above his heart.

 _Thump-thump-thump-thump_

A heartbeat had never been so precious in the moment. Marco sobbed over the sound, shaking. A stuttered breath from above him, the heartbeat started to beat faster. Then arms slowly sliding up his back, loosely holding him to the chest he rested on.

Maro looked up, taking in confused grey eyes framed by wavy black bangs. He roughly laughed, wiping a tear before leaning upwards and resting his forehead against Ace's.

"Welcome back, yoi." he greeted softly, a smile breaking across his face.

Ace opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again and weakly, softly he spoke.

"Marco?"


End file.
